


Sweet Talk

by aquileaofthelonelymountain



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Both POVs, Did I mention the smut?, Established Relationship, M/M, Quickies, Smut, Thilbo, Voice Kink, bagginshield, blindfolding, post-botfa au, sappy statements, sorry about that ... I guess, sounds like nothing but sex in Erebor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-13 06:28:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7966069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquileaofthelonelymountain/pseuds/aquileaofthelonelymountain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by <a href="http://alkjira.tumblr.com/post/134547043119/tonights-thought-is-kinda-smut-related-which-is">alkjira's post</a>: When Thorin is really turned on, like moments away from coming, he sometimes switches to Khuzdul without being aware that he’s done so. After this has happened a bunch of times Bilbo starts having a knee jerk reaction to it, or well, cock jerk would be more precise.</p>
<p>I've never written a story that's mainly smut before, but I just couldn't get this thought out of my head anymore ... XD</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Talk

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alkjira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alkjira/gifts).



Bilbo had always loved Thorin’s voice.

It was dark and deep, as regal as was fit for a king, and at the same time it was warm and soft, a lover’s voice. It could convey so many emotions without much effort, and there was hardly anything as beautiful as this voice whispering solemn oaths of love into Bilbo’s ear. The only thing that could compete with that was when this voice got raw as Thorin gradually lost control over himself with growing desire. Yes, Bilbo loved this voice.

And that seemed to be his problem now.

It wasn’t Thorin’s voice itself that had obviously become a problem, but a certain combination: It was the combination of Thorin’s voice in general and Thorin speaking in Khuzdul in particular that had put Bilbo into this embarrassing situation.

He knew the origin of his problem perfectly. The first time he hadn’t paid too much attention to it, though – of course not, he had hardly been able to think back then. He had been on his knees, his face dug deep into the pillows, but not deep enough to muffle his cries completely. Thorin’s fingers had been intertwined with his, his upper body had been pressed against his, and he had been deep inside of Bilbo. His breath had brushed hot over Bilbo’s neck with every thrust, and he had panted sweet nothings into his ear. And suddenly, the king had switched into Khuzdul, calling him _givashel_ and _amrâlimê_ and _ibinê_ – Bilbo couldn’t remember any other words; the pleasure had become too overwhelming, and all he had been able to think of was Thorin.

But he remembered a similar occasion. He had knelt between Thorin’s legs, his mouth closed around his cock, one of the dwarf’s big hands in his curls. The other had gripped around the arm of the chair, and the knuckles had been white with restraint. Bilbo had glanced up at Thorin: The king had thrown his neck back, his chest had heaved, and he had bit his lips. But as Bilbo’s tongue had continued to flick over his cock, he had eventually started to mumble in this strange tongue until he had climaxed, unable to utter anything but dwarvish endearments and Bilbo’s name.

Twice could still be a coincidence, but thrice definitely not. And there had been _more_ than three occasions. Bilbo just had to think of that one time he had surprised Thorin with a hot bath after a long day of diplomatic nonsense … and with a massage. The mumbling in Khuzdul had begun again as he had not only used the oil to pour it over Thorin’s back, but also to slicken himself, and as he had been inside of him … Well, never mind the full details.

Point was: Whenever Thorin was close, he started to speak in his native tongue without seeming to realize it. That wasn’t the problem, though. It deemed Bilbo rather endearing, to be honest. And arousing.

And _that_ was the problem: Whenever Bilbo heard Thorin speak in Khuzdul, his body tensed and expected an orgasm to rip through him any moment. It had gotten used to the sequence of hearing Khuzdul and climaxing. Hearing Thorin speaking those deep, throaty words meant the highest of pleasure.

It was like a knee jerk reaction. Only that some other body part reacted.

It wasn’t a problem if someone else said something in Khuzdul, thankfully. It would have been … disturbing otherwise. And embarrassing. Very, very embarrassing. The dwarves tended to use single words from their native tongue in their everyday speech, especially when they were amongst themselves. The first time Bilbo had heard Bifur – who used the secret tongue more often than the other dwarves – utter something in Khuzdul after discovering what effect it had on him he had been too panicked to be aroused. His fears had been unfounded, though – he felt a slight shiver or a twitch between his legs, but nothing to worry about. Everything was alright.

That was, until Thorin spoke Khuzdul.

Like today.

It hit Bilbo out of the blue. They sat at a great stone table in one of the council chambers. Opposite of them were two representatives of Dale’s merchant’s guild, negotiating with Thorin about supplies of metal in exchange for wood and furs. They referred to the trading conditions of the last quarter of a year, claiming that they had received more metal under more favourable conditions. The contract, however, was nowhere to be found amongst the pile of documents. Thorin turned to Ori, who quietly stood in the background, and asked him to check the archives to find said contract. The young dwarf headed for the door, but stopped as the king added something … in Khuzdul. It was probably only a hint where he could find the right documents, or a request to hurry that the men from Dale shouldn’t hear. Bilbo’s body reacted nonetheless.

The heat rose into his cheeks, and that wasn’t the only thing that rose, much to his shame. His erection pressed against the table, and he was glad for the broad table top. He tried not to glance at the merchants, the dwarf guards in the room, or Thorin. Did anybody notice his … sudden thrill? He was afraid that Thorin did. But he would be so decent not to even raise an eyebrow as long as they weren’t alone. The merchants, on the other hand …

Bilbo forced himself not to shift uncomfortably on his seat and kept staring at the documents in front of him instead. However, the numbers and letters in front of his eyes blurred, and he was too aware of his cock perking up. Maybe it would just … pass? If he tried to forget Thorin’s voice, warm and velvet, and so close to his ear when the dwarf held him tight and …

He shook his head. That didn’t help. Not. At. All. Bilbo tried to concentrate on the papers, and finally he felt a bit easier. Columns of numbers seemed to be a good distraction …

Ori returned with the contract, and Thorin thanked him – in Common Speech, as Bilbo observed with a tiny sigh of relief. The next moment, he almost choked on this sigh as Thorin added a few words in Khuzdul. All his efforts to focus on something else were gone – the throbbing between his legs had only gotten stronger. Bilbo pressed his knees together in what he hoped could count as a casual movement while silently cursing Thorin’s voice and that forsaken language.

But somehow, the meeting passed, and Bilbo was glad that courtesy didn’t require him to stand up when the merchants left. Ori quickly collected the papers and headed for the archive again. However, there wasn’t any chance for Bilbo to slip away unnoticed: The door had barely closed behind the men from Dale when Balin entered, carrying the parchments for the next meeting. Bilbo nearly winced.

“That seemed to go quite well”, the elderly dwarf remarked as he put the documents on the table. “I didn’t expect you to finish the matter that quickly.”

“The merchants weren’t as stubborn as the last time”, Thorin answered with a shrug. “The ambassador from Gondor is next, right? He wanted to talk about the reinforcement of the gates of their city …”

“He’s not here yet”, Balin informed him. “You’ve got half an hour until the appointment.”

_Half an hour._

“Thorin”, Bilbo said suddenly, “could I speak you for a moment?”

The king looked at him, but nodded without further questions. Bilbo stood up – cautious to cover his bulge with his coat without seeming awkward – and headed for the door. Thorin followed him without comment. It was not unusual that the hobbit talked to him in private between council meetings. He often observed things that the dwarves didn’t, and he also spoke more freely when they were amongst themselves. Besides, the other members of the company wouldn’t snicker when he told Thorin directly that he had behaved utterly stupid. That was something Bilbo wouldn’t do in front of the guards, either.

The chamber turned out to be a storage room, full of shelves, crates and bags. Thorin closed the door behind him. “What is it that –”

Bilbo interrupted him by pulling him close and kissing him hard. His tongue swept into Thorin’s mouth immediately, and he received an approving growl. The king moved forward, pressing him against the wall of the tiny room, and groaned as he felt the hobbit’s erection against him.

“Thorin”, Bilbo gasped, his knees wobbly with desire. “Please … Take me.”

The dwarf looked at him, confusion written on his face, but his eyes were dark with hunger as well. “Are you sure? We don’t have much time …”, he asked.

His question was appropriate: They had never done something like this before, sneaking away to hastily fulfil their desire. So far, they had always taken their time, playing with each other’s needs and pushing the other to his limits, enjoying every little moan and gasp they could draw from the other. He couldn’t deny that he felt thrilled at this new experience, however, and he nodded. “I am sure. I want you, Thorin, I want you so badly. Please, I – ah!” He moaned as Thorin softly bit his neck.

“You are really cheeky, my love”, he whispered against Bilbo’s skin. “You lured me into here on purpose, right?” He chuckled, and the sound made Bilbo shiver. “Into a storage room where we would probably find a little flask for our entertainment? But how could I ever deny you a request? And such an enjoyable one at that …” Thorin’s lips brushed over his collarbone before suddenly withdrawing. “Turn around”, he demanded softly, and Bilbo was just too willing to obey. His breath stopped as Thorin quickly undid the hobbit’s belt and let his pants drop to the ground. A strong, calloused hand wrapped around his aching cock, stroking slowly from the base to the tip.

“I don’t know what has aroused you that much, my heart”, Thorin whispered into his ear as his fingers moved over the head, rubbing the few droplets that had already leaked from him, “but you are so lovely like this …”

He withdrew his hand to unfasten his own belt, and Bilbo pressed his face against the wall, glad for the chill it provided. His body tensed in anticipation as he heard Thorin feeling for a flask and finally opening it, and he breathed in sharply as a slick finger brushed over his entrance.

“Someone could be nearby”, Thorin warned him. “We should take care to be quiet.” Bilbo only nodded for he didn’t trust his voice anymore. He bit his lips as a finger slid inside him, soon followed by a second one. They scissored to stretch him, and he couldn’t help whimpering – not only with pleasure, but also with impatience. He pushed his hips backwards eagerly. He knew that Thorin only wanted to make sure that he was ready, but he was more than ready. He could barely hold himself back any longer.

Thorin seemed to know as well. He didn’t waste time and withdrew his fingers soon. Instead, he grabbed Bilbo’s waist. He rolled his hips over his rear teasingly, and Bilbo grit his teeth as he felt Thorin’s stiff cock pushing against his entrance. Only moments later, Thorin slid into him, agonizingly slowly until he filled him completely, and a moan escaped Bilbo’s lips. It echoed threateningly loud through the chamber.

“Open your mouth”, the king asked in a raw voice. Bilbo did so, and Thorin pushed two fingers inside. Bilbo’s lips closed around them, and he thought that he could taste his own spill as he sucked them. “Bite on them. It should help.”

Thorin in turn pressed his mouth against Bilbo’s neck to muffle his moans, and his teeth dug into the skin as he began to move inside the hobbit. Bilbo bit into the fingers in his mouth and tried to support himself at the wall. But as Thorin quickened the pace, his arms gave in and he was pressed against it. The stone was cold against his heated body, and the combined sensation of Thorin thrusting into him and his cock rubbing over the wall was almost too much. He closed his eyes and bit on Thorin’s fingers, trying to maintain control over himself as long as possible.

Suddenly, Thorin’s lips lifted from his neck. His tongue brushed over his ear, and he whispered endearments into it. In Khuzdul.

It was too much. Bilbo came with a desperate cry. He couldn’t hear if it was muffled over the rushing of blood in his ears, and he didn’t care in that moment. He felt warm fluid first spreading over his belly, then inside of him as Thorin climaxed as well, his mouth pressed once more against Bilbo’s neck.

They stayed like this long moments until Thorin’s mouth parted from Bilbo’s skin, and he bend forward to brush his cheek with his lips. “I love you”, he whispered and added another kiss. Bilbo was too breathless and could only manage a smile for an answer.

Without speaking, Thorin pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and began to clean both of them. Bilbo leaned against him with a content sigh, feeling entirely secure in Thorin’s embrace. However, he felt somewhat abashed as the dwarf bent down and pulled the hobbit’s trousers back up – Bilbo gave a shriek as Thorin pressed a quick kiss on his bare rear.

He turned to face Thorin and tiptoed to peck his cheek. He reached out to adjust Thorin’s crown; it had shifted slightly during their … encounter. “Thank you, my love”, he said quietly and caused Thorin to smirk.

“For those beautiful distraction from trade negotiations and paper work?”

“Thank you for … not laughing at my sudden desire. For not thinking me unrestrained or wanton”, Bilbo mumbled, dropping his gaze. “For … for …” His voice trailed off as he didn’t know how to continue.

And there was no need to continue. Thorin took hold of him under the chin and lifted it to kiss Bilbo with the utmost gentleness.

“I would never do such a thing”, he said gravely, but with a soft tone in his voice. “And you shouldn’t think of yourself like that as well.” He kissed him once more, and Bilbo got weak in the knees. Thorin smiled; Bilbo could feel how his lips curled against his own. “That you love and desire me will never cease to amaze me. So do never hesitate to tell me of your desires. I will gladly fulfil every single one. It will be my pleasure.” He snatched another kiss from him. “I’m afraid we have to return to the council chamber now. But maybe we can continue this talk tonight? When we are amongst ourselves …” He gave Bilbo a look full of affection and longing, and the hobbit didn’t doubt Thorin’s promise to anticipate his every wish for a second.

 

***

 

Despite Thorin’s reassuring words, Bilbo couldn’t bring himself to tell him about the effect his voice had on him. He still got red with shame because of it. It just wasn’t fair that Thorin could arouse him that easily without even noticing it!

Bilbo had tried his best to avoid further awkward situations, but it deemed him a waste of time and effort. Sometimes he thought that everybody in this damned mountain tried his best to make Thorin speak in Khuzdul!

The emissaries from other kingdoms did so unwittingly. Bilbo understood perfectly that it was sometimes necessary for Thorin to speak to his counsellors in Khuzdul. But did he just imagine things, or had this become more frequent?

And had it ever happened before that Kili left his uncle’s chambers with a big grin and a casual remark in Khuzdul, provoking an answer in the same language? He must have said something sappy, for Thorin’s comment had sounded somewhat annoyed, yet touched at the same time. The combination had stirred a different kind of desire in Bilbo, one that he still wasn’t able to put in words, and as he had lain in Thorin’s arms that night, they had covered each other with kisses, gently pushing each other to the peak until Thorin had whispered so tenderly into his ear that Bilbo melted at the sole memory.

But it wasn’t always that comfortable like Kili just leaving their rooms, or Thorin dismissing his guards for the night in a dwarvish command and finding Bilbo already waiting for him behind the door.

The most difficult situation had been when messengers from the Iron Mountains had arrived. Dwarves meeting dwarves – that meant formal greetings in their language, a bunch of Khuzdul names for people and places, even word puns, as it had seemed. Bilbo had been glad beyond relief that the place of the discussion had soon changed to a less formal one – a tavern, to be precise – and he had been able to excuse himself from what would soon deem everybody but a dwarf more like a drinking competition than a council session. As soon as the dwarves had been out of sight, he had put on his ring and hurried to a cold bath – a very cold one.

But it couldn’t go on like this! He couldn’t always hope that Thorin dropped a remark in the secret tongue only at the end of the day, just before they could retire to their chambers, or that his schedule left them enough time to sneak away. Not that it wasn’t beautiful and thrilling, oh dear! And Thorin enjoyed it as well, although he sometimes looked puzzled when his hobbit dragged him away, probably wondering what he had done to put his beloved into such a mood. Not that that had happened so often, but he couldn’t act like a love-struck tween that wasn’t able to control his desires any longer.

For a moment, he wondered what his fellow hobbits back in the Shire would think of his behaviour. But he shook his head at once to get this idea out of it. _Utterly unrespectable_ would be one of the nicer opinions.

He leaned back into his armchair with a frustrated sigh, pondering on what he should do when he heard Thorin entering the antechamber. He sighed once more, but this time with relief. Night was already falling, all meetings were done and over, and that meant he had managed a day without making a complete fool out of himself.

Bilbo heard Thorin moving around in the next room, probably taking off his crown and his heavy robes as was his habit. Footsteps approached the door to the parlour, and Thorin entered, softly singing to himself.

In Khuzdul. Of course he sang in Khuzdul. Why had he even expected something else? It was the same voice that had enchanted him back then in Bag End and that had lured him out of his home without him really knowing why. The song was different, though, less grave and with a quicker rhythm.

Bilbo groaned, hid his face in his hands and sank deeper into his chair. He could already feel a way too familiar throbbing between his legs – not even his annoyance could stop his body from reacting to Thorin’s voice.

“Givashel?”, Thorin asked, and Bilbo squirmed and pressed his knees together. “Are you alright? You … you are not in pain, are you?”

A half-choked laugh escaped Bilbo, and he let his hands fall. “No, Thorin, I’m not in pain. Not really. But I have a serious request: You have to stop speaking in Khuzdul.”

Thorin blinked at him. “I don’t think that I understand – ”

“You may not have realized it, my dear, but whenever we love, you start to speak in Khuzdul at a certain point – which brings _me_ to a certain point, if you know what I mean. My body got so used to this habit of yours, whenever I hear you speak in your tongue …”, he spread his legs, “ _this_ happens.”

Thorin stared at him. “You’re not telling me that my voice has … such an effect on you?”

“It has”, Bilbo stated plainly. There was no use in hiding it any longer. Maybe it was for the better; he was tired of trying to hide his desire. If Thorin would laugh about this awkward situation? Would he feel embarrassed? Or would he even be repelled? Bilbo dreaded all possibilities.

Suddenly, Thorin rushed forward, rested his hands on the arms of Bilbo’s chair and bowed over him, bringing his face close to the hobbit’s. “So I was right”, he mumbled, sounding strangely excited.

If it weren’t for Thorin almost pressing him into his chair, Bilbo would have jumped. “You _knew_?!” He huffed, unable to find words. “You – you utterly – How dare you – ”

The dwarf silenced him with a quick kiss. “Peace, Bilbo. I only figured it out a few days ago, and it was only an assumption. Remember when I dismissed the guards in Khuzdul a few days ago?”

“Of course”, Bilbo snorted. “You’ve never done something like that before, and I thought that I was cursed.”

“I wanted to find out if I was right, and it deemed me a safe situation. I would never put you in an embarrassing situation openly … well, at least not knowingly. I’m sorry I had to play this trick on you, but you left me no other choice. After all, you could have talked to me.”

The hobbit huffed once more. “No, don’t try to make _me_ feeling guilty about the matter. Do you really think that I should have told you? Now that would have been a nice conversation! ‘Thorin, whenever you speak in your native tongue, I get hard, so either stop that nonsense or take me right now.’”

The king grinned at him. “That wouldn’t have been a hard decision … givashel.” He leaned forward for another kiss, but Bilbo brought his hand between them so Thorin’s lips only met the palm.

“That’s a serious matter”, he growled, his face hot with shame. “And a very embarrassing one.”

Thorin drew his head back, but remained in the same position, supporting himself on the arms of the chair. “I understand that you felt uncomfortable when I spoke Khuzdul in a public place, but here? When it is just the two of us? There is nothing to be bashful about, my love.”

Bilbo had stared on his intertwined hands so far, but he looked up as he heard the fondness in Thorin’s voice. The dwarf smiled softly at him, but Bilbo didn’t miss the desire in his eyes.

“You think so?”, he muttered. “But it’s … It only takes you a few words to make me wish that you would – that we would – Thorin, it takes you no effort at all to almost drive me crazy! Don’t you think that’s … upsetting? At least a bit? Because I think so.”

“And I don’t think so. I told you that it always amazes me that you love, that you desire me. I guess hearing you say that so directly … or actually seeing that your body reacts to me … has a similar effect on me like my voice has on you.” Said voice turned into the purest velvet, and Bilbo was suddenly aware of how close Thorin was to him: He could see the hair of his beard trailing down his neck and turning into mere stubble, he could smell his heady scent, he could feel the heat radiating from him. “I don’t know which hobbitish ideas of appropriateness make you feel ashamed, but I don’t care about them. If my voice gives you pleasure, then I will talk to you as long, as often as you want. Just tell me, Bilbo, and I will talk to you, and you only.”

Bilbo cheeks heated as Thorin’s words got fervid, and this time it wasn’t with shame. He wrapped his hands around the king’s neck, pulling him forward fiercely so that Thorin lost his balance and bumped onto him. His body pressed heavy against his own, and Bilbo groaned at the sole touch.

“It would really be a nice variation”, he muttered, “not having to quench my desire, but being able to enjoy it to the full …”

“Then let me talk to you”, Thorin asked.

Moments of silence passed between them, only interrupted by their heavy breathing, until Bilbo nodded. “Please, Thorin”, he said, “talk to me.”

 

***

 

It was Thorin’s pleasure to fulfil Bilbo’s wish, and he was determined to make this night an unforgettable one for his hobbit. He wouldn’t hear mere occasional remarks or the single words Thorin used to utter when he was close himself. No, tonight Thorin would speak to Bilbo, only to Bilbo, oaths of love, words of passion, and promises of what was yet to come tonight, and he would let him savour the voice he longed to hear.

That was why he had blindfolded him.

Bilbo had objected at first, fearing that it would make him feel uncomfortable, but Thorin had been adamant, and Bilbo had finally decided to trust him. His hobbit should only concentrate on his voice, and he would do so better without his sense of sight.

_Besides_ , he thought, _I cannot deny that you are a gorgeous sight._

Bilbo sat on their bed, leaning against some pillows, and the dark scarf over his eyes was a sharp contrast to his golden curls. He still wore a plain shirt – he had insisted to keep it to feel more comfortable in this strange situation –, but it was unbuttoned and didn’t hide much of him. The candle light covered his exposed skin with a soft golden glow, and the sight of his half-erect cock alone was enough to make Thorin swallow.

However, he had to restrain himself for a bit longer. Bilbo’s body was tense, and his fingers dug nervously into the sheets, let go of them, and dug into them again. But Thorin wanted him to ease and to enjoy their play, so he gave him more time to adjust to his situation. He looked at his beloved yearningly, but stepped away from the bed to undress himself in the meanwhile.

It was a pity, he thought while pulling his tunic over his head, that Bilbo had been so shy about this certain desire of his. Usually he wasn’t that bashful, but as eager as Thorin to give as well as to receive. Thorin had learned during their journey how much fierceness the hobbit had inside of him, and he had learned how much passion, but also playfulness was in him after their quest.

He could barely imagine how difficult it must have been to fight his longing and to hide it, even when they had been alone. He still pondered about the reason. Maybe Bilbo really felt like violating some hobbitish principle of appropriateness? Well, but they were not in Hobbiton, and tonight it didn’t matter as well that they were in Erebor. It was just the two of them, not the King under the Mountain and the company’s burglar, but simply Thorin and Bilbo.

Thorin almost sighed as he stripped off his pants – with Bilbo laying on the bed and waiting for him, they had become rather tight. But it had been worth waiting, for Bilbo now seemed more relaxed.

“ _You look beautiful_ ”, Thorin said in Khuzdul, and those few words had an immediate effect on Bilbo: He inhaled sharply, and his body tensed again with the sounds still hanging in the air. “ _It is difficult to resist you, my love. My wonderful, gorgeous, beautiful hobbit._ ” He spoke slowly and clearly and chose his words carefully, sometimes using an expression that was less frequent or archaic even to Khuzdul standards, but those words were older and throatier and darker, and that was exactly what he wanted. “ _Let me have a closer look at you._ ”

So far, he had remained a few steps away from the bed, but now he got closer; the thick carpet swallowed the sound of his footsteps. He was careful not to touch Bilbo, though. He wanted to see how far he could push him with his voice.

“ _Very far, it seems_ ”, he remarked with a wry smile as his gaze drifted over the hobbit. He bit his lips, his back was arched, his chest heaved, and although he pressed his knees together he couldn’t hide his stiff cock that rose from its nest of coarse dark-golden hair. However, there was something about his position that made Thorin frown. Bilbo still looked like he was fighting back his desire, as if he was trying to convince his body that it shouldn’t react like that.

Thorin bend over him, making sure that not even a strand of his hair touched Bilbo. “ _Don’t fight it_ ”, he said calmly, and a gasp escaped Bilbo as he realized how close Thorin suddenly was. “ _There is no need to be bashful, my love. It is only me and you, and my only desire is to speak to you.”_ He chuckled. “ _Well, not my only desire. But for now, I want to please you. I love you, and seeing you like this … Is it really my voice alone that arouses you? Oh Bilbo, you are irresistible. I will speak to you every night, if you wish. Every night until my voice gets hoarse with age, and I have told you so many oaths of love that you have heard them thousands time. Even then I will talk to you, as long as you wish.”_

Although he had only uttered words in Khuzdul, Bilbo seemed to understand him somehow. His body was still tense and his fingers dug into the sheets, but his tension became less frantic. He seemed more … excited now, as if he had accepted his desire instead of fighting it. He spread his legs slowly, revealing his full length and opening to Thorin. Bilbo’s lips curled into a tiny smile. It deemed Thorin a bit insecure, but it was very endearing.

“ _That’s good. Enjoy it. Enjoy every single word_ ”, Thorin muttered. The smile on Bilbo’s face widened, and he gave a deep sigh of content. The dwarf in turn smiled at the sight.

Bilbo raised a hand as if to feel for Thorin, but the king took a step backwards. It took him some effort to get out of the hobbit’s reach, though.

Suddenly, Bilbo opened his lips. “Thorin”, he moaned deeply, and yet in such a sweet voice. He had been silent so far as if he was afraid to miss even a single syllable. “Thorin”, he groaned once more, his voice tight with longing. “Please …”

“ _At your service._ ” Thorin’s eyes wandered over the hobbit’s body hungrily, and he felt a shiver. So far they had only talked about the effect his voice had on Bilbo, but hearing the hobbit speak his name like this … He wished Bilbo would call his name again and again.

He knelt down at the bedside. He brought his face so close that his breath probably brushed over Bilbo’s navel. “ _I’ll be at your service, all night long._ _And if it doesn’t take many words until you come – what does it matter? It won’t be the last time that you come tonight, I promise you. I am sure that my mouth can offer you more pleasure. I will cover you with kisses, and my tongue will find even the most sensitive parts of your body until you scream my name …”_

He had to close his eyes for a moment as the throbbing between his own legs got almost too much to bear. He took several deep breaths, but that didn’t help. The thoughts of how Bilbo’s soft skin would feel under his lips, of how his sweat would taste on his tongue, of how his voice would sound when he pleaded for more were too strong. Thorin wanted to touch, to feel, to love him so badly.

He forced himself to emerge from these fancies – they wouldn’t stay mere fancies, though – and shifted his position. When he spoke again, his mouth was only inches apart from Bilbo’s ear.

“ _How should I take you then?”_ , he whispered into it. Bilbo’s face glistened with sweat, but the smile was still left on it, and the moans that came over his lips were interwoven with traces of laughter. It was such a sweet sound. “ _On your back, or on your belly? Or should I pull you on my lap, pressing you against me? You always feel so good, my love, you always take me so good._ ” Thorin’s voice was now deep and raw with yearning, and the urge to finally touch Bilbo was almost too strong.

But he could see that Bilbo was close: He had opened his legs as wide as possible, shivers ran through his body, and he let out cut-off little gasps. The corners of his lips still curved upwards, but the strongest expression on his face now was hunger – hunger for the last words that would make him climax.

And Thorin gave him those words.

“ _Come, Bilbo_ ”, he panted into his ear. “ _Come for me, my love.”_

He stayed where he was, and he kept his gaze on Bilbo’s face as he reached the peak. Thorin was fascinated by its expression. His mouth opened widely, and the dwarf could see his quick, clever tongue. Bilbo tried to form Thorin’s name several times, but they all ended in high-pitched moans, culminating in one long sharp cry as he finally spilled.

Everything seemed to freeze, and silence fell over the bedroom. Then, a shiver ran through Bilbo’s body before he sighed and plunged back into the pillows, breathing heavily. Thorin watched him, marvelling at the smile that had never really left the face of his beloved.

He waited until Bilbo had calmed down a bit. However, he couldn’t resist to surprise him as long as he was still blindfolded, so he pulled him into a tender kiss. Bilbo gave a sound of astonishment against Thorin’s lips at first, but soon returned the caress. The dwarf undid the scarf, and as they parted from each other, he was rewarded with the sight of beautiful eyes, shining like amber in the candle light. He reached out to tuck a damp curl out of Bilbo’s forehead.

“Did you enjoy this, my dear?”, he asked softly.

The hobbit laughed. “Wasn’t that obvious?”, he replied merrily, and Thorin’s heart skipped a beat at the sound. Bilbo’s voice grew more serious, but it was affectionate nonetheless. “I did enjoy it. I was a bit nervous at the beginning, but as you spoke to me so tenderly, I forgot all my worries. Thank you, sweetheart.”

“It was my pleasure.” Thorin pressed a kiss on Bilbo’s forehead.

“Speaking of pleasure …”, the hobbit remarked wryly and glanced down Thorin’ body, “I think you said something about more kisses …”

“What?” Thorin’s eyes widened in disbelief, and his face grew hot. “Did you actually understand what I said?” Mahal help him, he didn’t know what to think about that. He probably wouldn’t have talked like that if he had known … Otherwise, why should it be a problem if Bilbo had understood him? After all, he had meant every single word serious.

“Don’t worry”, Bilbo chuckled, obviously amused at Thorin’s reaction. “I thought that I might handle this whole matter easier if I knew some Khuzdul words myself, and I sat down with a dictionary. I didn’t come far in my studies, though – I always wondered how you would pronounce the words, and that wasn’t very helpful. But I picked up enough to know that you promised me something for tonight.” He wrapped his arms around Thorin’s neck, pulling him onto the bed, and Thorin didn’t resist.

“I could teach you”, he offered as he embraced Bilbo, and he sighed as he finally felt his beloved close to him. He had promises to fulfil, and he started by stripping the shirt off Bilbo and by peppering kisses wherever he could reach Bilbo without letting go of him.

“I’m afraid I would be a terrible student”, the hobbit managed to answer between their kisses. His small hands roamed over Thorin’s back down to his tights, thus making him moan. “My attention span is very short in this matter.” He giggled as Thorin shifted to cover Bilbo with his body, supporting himself on the pillows, his face only inches apart from the hobbit’s.

“Do I have your attention now … givashel?”, he asked softly.

Bilbo reached out to cup Thorin’s face and pulled him closer.

“Oh sweetheart”, he mumbled against his lips, “you always have my attention when you speak.”

**Author's Note:**

> Language is a skin: I rub my language against the other. It is as if I had words instead of fingers, or fingers at the tip of my words. My language trembles with desire.  
> \- Roland Barthes
> 
> Comments are always appreciated :)


End file.
